Children grow up thinking the adult world is ordered, rational, fit for purpose. It’s crap. Becoming a man is realising that it’s all rotten. Realising how to celebrate that rottenness, that’s freedom.
You’re a grown man. And grown men don’t hide behind lies.
Perhaps we’ve grown so used to horror we assume there’s no other way.
It is so fun to watch grown men play with their toys.
Being grown’s got a price. Kid gets slapped when he’s bad. When you’re grown, you get the fist. Or the knife.